


What Could Have Been

by Konobeat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konobeat/pseuds/Konobeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Jake English, and you couldn't be happier.</p>
<p>Life has been kind to you. Your family is wonderful, and although a steady job is hard to find, you endure few financial hard-ships. Because of your numerous interests, you sometimes find yourself away from home for extended amounts of time, but right now you wouldn't even think of leaving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Name's Kono. This is just little idea I gained from a song. Planning about 3-4 chapters.

Your name is Jake English, and you couldn't be happier.

Life has been kind to you. Your family is wonderful, and although a steady job is hard to find, you endure few financial hard-ships. Because of your numerous interests, you sometimes find yourself away from home for extended amounts of time, but right now you wouldn't even think of leaving.

“I do not think he likes cake much. Can we order pizza?”

Your son, John, is turning 10 tomorrow. He's bouncing around, grinning, and trying to plan out the party. He wants games, food, toys, and everything else that he can think of to entertain his friends. You're impressed at the list of guests. You didn't know your son was so popular at his school, or that you would have to throw such an extravagant event to accommodate them all.

“What kind of video games do you think they like?”

Your relief is indescribable, because what more could a father want than his child to be happy? When you first moved into the new neighborhood, you were frightened. What if John didn't fit in? What if he was picked on for his teeth? Or his dorky little laugh and his ability to quote, word for word, some of his favorite movies?

“Dad?”

But the boy is proving your suspicions wrong, and he's going on and on about the kids on his list, and your having a hard time keeping up with his words. Your mind wanders, and there's this ear-splitting grin on your face, one that could rival The Joker. It's amazing how perfect your life is. It's almost too good to believe.

“Dad, are you even listening?” John's voice rips you from your thoughts, making you whip your head around so he's faced with your smile. His hands are clutched onto the list of invites like a lifeline, and he's trying to give you the most disapproving look he can muster. His eyes are scrunched up, and his lips poking out in a furious pout. Frankly, it's more adorable than threatening, but you feign an apologetic attitude.

“I'm sorry, son. Where were we? The um, Karkitty kid, right?”

“Karkat, dad! And we're past him already. Geez.” His lips twitch as if he wants to smile, but he still shakes his head, crossing his arms and crumpling his list in the process. He appears distraught for a moment, but calms as he realizes that the deformation was only minor.

He makes an exaggerated effort to roll his eyes before uncrossing his arms and smoothing out the list on his knee, taking extra precaution not to tear it.

“Now lets see...” He looks thoughtful, scanning the names and trying to decide who's next. You're sure he's gone through most the list. Maybe even all of it. But his eyes lock onto one spot, his brow smoothing out as his face becomes surprisingly unreadable.

“John?” You say, craning your head to see the list. You're unable to pinpoint his line of sight.

“There's Dave. But I don't know if he'll come.” He fails at hiding his anxiety, his teeth biting down on his lower lip.

“Who's Dave?” You've never heard this name before, which was strange because John babbled on about the kids he'd met. You thought you had all their names memorized.

“I don't know much about him. I just kinda invited him 'cause... well...” John looks up as if searching for the words on the ceiling, and then he laughs.

“Because?”

“I dunno! He just looked cool, I guess.”

You laugh with him, and continue planning for the party. Each kid had their own likes, dislikes, and allergies, so you had to be sure to make the party as perfect as possible. For John's sake. It was tricky business. Mostly because the boy himself keeps getting distracted by tickle-fights.

It starts off with a blast. Jane's father insisted on baking about a dozen cakes, which was a good idea. Kids were everywhere, all of them watching movies and playing video games. Some hung around in little groups, chatting and joking around. You and Jane remain in the background. There isn't much to supervise, as most of John's friends are well behaved.

You think, at first, that it's a real success. Everyone seems happy and excited. Even some of the grumpier children start to warm up after a few rounds of tag. Once the game systems are hooked up, and when the abominable amounts of sugar begin to settle in their stomachs, your tiny guests seems lively and at ease.

All except for the birthday boy himself. He's distracted, but you don't know why. He doesn't look nearly as enthusiastic as the other children. Sure, he socializes here and there. He plays a few pranks, most of them featuring spare pieces of cake. He even forces everyone to sit down long enough to view Con Air. But his heart is in none of it, and you often find him sadly staring at the door.

Eventually, he breaks away from the party. Or more accurately, storms away. You watch as he stomps towards the back gate. The glass doors do nothing to hide him when they slam shut, and you can plainly see the child settling down and sulking in one of the patio chairs. You send Jane an anxious look, and she simply nods over in his direction, silently telling you that she will continue watching the children. You grin at her before following John outside.

He's sitting with his eyes locked onto the sunset, and you're surprised to see that it's late, the sun already sliding towards the horizon. John doesn't see you, so you walk over to the table and sit down beside him, mimicking his posture and expression. It takes a few seconds for him to notice you're there, but when he does, you see him crack the smile that you were hoping for. You return it with one of your own.

“Something wrong, chap?”

His smile fades, but not nearly to the extent of his formerly forlorn expression. His eyes return to the sky, that strangely thoughtful look appearing once again. It's only now that you notice it makes him appear older.

“Someone didn't come.” He says simply. It tears your heart apart knowing that this is the reason your son isn't enjoying his party. You didn't expect everyone to come. The list was enormous. Glancing at your living room, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole school had arrived. Even so, you feel the slightest lick of rage at this unknown child. The one that decided to ditch. But you know it's foolish, and you hold it down.

“Who?” You try to keep the irritation from being heard.

“Dave.” His frown returns with that name, and you want to punt this kid like a football. “It's not that he didn't come. He _said_ that he would. But he didn't.” He stops there, crossing his arms in the way that he does when upset. 

“That's... too bad.” You gesture towards the house, in the direction of the other children. “But it's not so horrible, is it? All your other friends came! And look, they're having a grand time! Just like you planned.” 

This makes him smile, although it still lacks its usual brilliance. But he's hopeful. You nod over to the door.

“Go back to enjoying your party. I'll be sure to bring out more cake. It looks like they're running out!” You laugh, and he follows suit. The sound lifts your spirits, and he slips out of his chair to go join his new friends.

You let out a sigh, slowly standing and making your way over to the fridge to pull out another cake. Jane looks worried, but you just smile at her reassuringly before setting the cake down and cutting up a few more slices in case the kids want more. They all seem to be enraptured by a gaming competition taking place. Smash Brothers, it looks like. One kid, the one with the lisp, seems to be taking a lead as Kirby.

You watch this for a while until you hear the doorbell ring. You think for a moment that maybe it's a neighbor coming to complain about the noise, but realize that it's more likely a parent. It's beginning to get dark and the kids will have to be going soon. You're relieved, as they were starting to give you a headache.

You take care to step over small toys and crumb-filled plates as you make your way to the front corridor, grimacing at the thought of cleaning up once all was over and done with. Once you finally make it to the door you open it, only catching a glimpse of a dark vehicle leaving your drive-way. You frown and look around, but see no one. Was it a prank?

“...Hey, this is English's place, right?”

You look down, and your met with... shades. Familiar, ridiculously pointed shades. There's a rush of nostalgia as you look at the child. He barely comes up to your hip. For a moment your breathless, and your head is spinning in confusion.

“Dirk?” A floodgate opens and your assaulted with memories you thought you forgot.

The kid frowns, tilting his head to the side. “Um...what?” The illusion is broken, because no, this isn't Dirk. It's just someone that looks almost exactly like him. It's frightening. Are they related?

Before you can confront him, you're instantly pushed to the side by small hands and a flash of blue.

“Dave!” The blonde headed boy is quickly covered in John. He almost loses his balance trying to support the other while catching his shades as they slip down his face. They are too big on him. His eyes are the wrong color.

You feel a lump in your throat.

“You came! You came!” John is practically floating with excitement. His grin is brighter than the sun, and the other kid, Dave, looks overwhelmed. Your overwhelmed too. You want to know what his last name is.

Before you can get a word in, Dave is dragged in by an over-enthusiastic John. The scene is so familiar, you almost feel like your watching your own life from years ago. It doesn't help that John is a spitting image of you when you were his age. 

Once upon a time you had a best friend named Dirk Strider. As kids, you spent your time adventuring through forests and backyards with fake swords and guns blazing. As teenagers, your adventures consisted of video games of which you still suck at, and movies you think he probably still hates.

It's been years since you've given the man any thought, and it makes you feel guilty. 

It takes you a moment to settle down, to grab a drink. Your son spends the rest of the evening with the newcomer, and you spend your time watching them. It's scary, how similar they are. The way Dave carries himself is so confident, his back straight, his head held high. You can tell he's mature for his age, just like your old friend was. But he's still a kid, and you see the small smiles he cracks every now and then when John says something amusing.

There's a sick feeling in your stomach, and you're not sure why. You're happy now. The past is the past. But still. 

The party continues without a hitch. John is beyond happy. Everyone showed up. And his smile makes your spirits sore once again. He's the most important thing to you now. You're so proud of him, and happy that he's here. 

The kids begin leaving, their parents apologizing for the mess. You and Jane wave them off. It's really no big deal. They all had fun. You wish them all a good night and see the families off to their respective cars.

It's closing in at ten o' clock and Dave is still there. Possibly staying longer because he was so late. You continue to watch them, and it puts you at ease to see the boy open up more as the other children leave. Dirk never laughed like that. Well, not often. 

The boys begin dozing off in the middle of another viewing of Con Air, in which John  _insisted_ on re-watching because Dave had missed it earlier. You feel tense, wondering if you'd have to confront his family by the end of the night. 

You never got the kid's last name, but after watching him, you're entirely sure of who his father is. Memories of the last time you spoke makes you cringe, and you decide not to make a move when Dave's parent(s) come to pick him up. You don't think you're ready to see Dirk again. Not yet.

You almost drop your drink when the doorbell rings.

Jane gets up to get the door, and you feel yourself frozen in your seat. 

It isn't a man's voice you hear, but a high-pitched squeal. Your breathe hitches, but you relax, and you stand to see what the commotion is about. You hear laughter from Jane, and excited voices talking too fast for you to make out a single word.

When you get to the door, Jane is in a similar position as Dave was earlier, her trying to hold up a bundle of excitement. The woman has bright blonde hair, and strangely-pink colored eyes. She seems a bit unsteady on her feet. It only takes you a second to put a name to the face.

“...Lalonde?” You have to take a moment to register her sudden appearance. You barely knew her in high school, but you remember her being rather close to Jane. And near the end, Dirk had gotten to know her too. You swallow thickly as you approach.

She gasps, letting go of Jane and making a dramatic show of covering her mouth in shock. “Jake? Oh my god! Look at you!” She grins and engulfs you in a hug. You laugh, albeit shakily, and pat her back in greeting.

“Good to see you!” At least you sound sincere and calm, but your heart is hammering in your chest.

“Wow. What's it been? Like a bazillion years?” There's a slur to her voice, and you hope she isn't driving.

“It's been quite some time. High school perhaps?” Jane's elated to see her old best friend, her eyes sparkling with joy. “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know. Here and there. Got a job. Got a husband. Had a kid. Life's been pretty good for me,” She laughs. “And you, Janey? Looks like you've been just as lucky as I have.” She gives Jane a knowing look, eyebrows wiggling in a comical manner.

Jane laughs, using her hand to cover her mouth. “Oh, it's rightly much the same. It's such a shock to see you. I take it Dave is...?”

“Bingo! Where is the little rascal anyway?” She looks around, eventually finding the two boys. Dave is leaning on John's shoulder, who is drooling on the couch.

“Well isn't that the most precious thing?” She doesn't hesitate to step on over and scoop the boy up in her arms. The children stir, and John looks a bit distraught to have lost his human blanket.

Dave just buries his head in his mothers neck, mumbling sleepily about crappy movies and uncomfortable pillows.

Roxy giggles, snorts slightly, and ruffles the boys head as he begins to return to dreamland.

“Thanks for having him over. Honestly, he's too much like his father. Spends more time on the internet than with kids his age, you know? I'm glad to see him make a friend.”

“We're happy to have him. He's welcome here anytime.” You want so badly to ask about his father. If he's doing okay, if he's happy. But you can't seem to get the words out.

“See you again, Lalonde?” 

“Oh please, Jakey! It's Mrs. Strider now. And I'm sure we'll be seeing each other a lot more if our little devils have anything to say about it.” She winks and heads out the door, turning to give a little wave before leaving.

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions? Contact me on tumblr. Same name.


End file.
